Just the story of my life
by Duistere
Summary: Allen telling in I-perspective about his life, mostly about Mana. First bit of fanfiction, but I think it turned out pretty well. Can be considered AU because Allen never met Cross at Mana's grave, but I assure you it isn't really relevant in this case.


First time I've ever written a part of fanfiction to be honest. Hope you like it.

Not sure if this is needed but: **Disclaimer:** I don't own -man, which is fairly obvious.

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><p>I was abandoned at a young age, not at birth obviously. A baby can't survive on its own, but I have no memories of a home. No memories of a parent or caretaker. So I figure I must have been left to fend for myself a bit later or someone must have taken pity on me until they could no longer stand me.<p>

I think I was around five years old then when I met him. He too offered me something. I had seen him before though. It was on the square in the middle of the city I had lived for as long as I can remember. The first day he told folklore and it was as if you were living the story yourself. I couldn't listen to all of it and I never did get the chance the ask for the whole story, but his second act was what probably what made me trust him.

He had dressed up ridiculously and he did all kinds of tricks. This wasn't what awed me though. The faces of street children like me, laughing and smiling as if they didn't have a care in the world. That wasn't it either. It was him. He made a fool out of himself and ignored the adults that looked distastefully and demeaning at him for doing so. His eyes were filled with happiness and satisfaction.

This was the reason I, albeit hesitantly, accepted his offer when he asked if I would like to go with him. I never asked why he gave me that chance nor did I ask why me?

His name was Mana Walker. I remember my childish thought it was a simple name for a simple fool. During my time with him he always told me stories he was making up. He claimed it was to see if they were good enough to be told at a square and since it was for moneymaking I gave in and listened. Those stories held such depth that he certainly was anything but.

Not long after meeting him my name became Allen Walker and I was happy with that name even though I refused to admit it.

The days I spend with him were fun. It took me a while to get used to the idea that I didn't have to steal, that I could earn money by acting like I'd lost my mind. While I didn't care much for the clown part at first, I loved listening to his stories. I never admitted it to him, stubborn as I was. Maybe it was too because I didn't trust the happiness, that I couldn't believe I was happy. Freed of the harsh life of the streets. As if it just couldn't last.

I still wish it had.

Mana died because he was hit by a carriage. I still remember it clearly. I even remember the crest on the carriage, the noble cursing he was going to be late, but most of all Mana, wounded on the ground.

That day I cried more than I most likely ever will again in my life. Mana had taken me in, had taught me to talk properly, to write, but most important of all, he taught me what happiness was like. How it felt to not have an empty stomach, to have a place to sleep without almost freezing to death in winter and how it felt to have someone who cares about you. With his death he taught me what's it's like to lose someone important to you.

A nice farmer came from the city we had performed in the day before and he helped me bury Mana aside the road and he even offered me to stay with him. The old suspicion of the streets wormed its way into my mind at that time. Nonetheless he had helped me give Mana a proper resting place and helped carrying stones to spell his name. I wasn't in a state to really care it either, so I went with him.

It turned out that Steven and his wife Ellie had always wanted a child, but couldn't get one, no matter how hard they tried or what they did. They were a bit shocked when they saw my arm, but weren't scared away by it.

You see, my left arm is almost the colour of crimson, merely a tone darker or so and my skin there isn't smooth. It has a similar feel to the distinctive scarring that occurs when someone is badly burned. My fingernails on my left hand are pitch black and harder than normal nails. The worst thing though, is the green cross which is embedded into the backside of my left hand. This is isn't the result of someone's madness. I don't know why but I just know I've been born with it.

Steven and Ellie took me in and I discovered life at a farm. I've been with them ever since. When Steven goes to the nearest city to sell his goods I join him and always visit Mana's grave to make sure it stays proper and untouched.

I will always carry Mana in my heart the way he told me once in a story.

"_The man was sad but could bear the pain of losing his friend, because he knew that even though his friend was no longer with him to share his happy and sad moments, his friend hadn't abandoned him. His friend was still in his heart and that would never go away as long as he honoured the place his friend had in his heart." _

When I heard the story I couldn't have comprehend what Mana had meant by those words, but now I am older I do. As long as I honour Mana's place in my heart by thinking of him with the happiness he brought to me and his spectators, it will be just like he is still with me, guiding me.

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><p>Please tell me if you liked this or not and preferably why you do or don't. Thank you for taking the time to read this ^-^<p> 


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